Trinity
by Atomix330
Summary: When the Advance Guard came to collect Harry Potter during the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they didn't expect to return to Grimmauld Place without him. Harry on the otherhand has other ideas... Welcome to a world of money, politics and power. I own nothing, all credit goes to JK Rowling for her creations. (Rated K for now.)
1. Chapter 1 - Evasive Flying

**Trinity; Chapter 1 – Evasive Flying**

_A/N: Hello! Welcome to my fourth attempt at Harry Potter Fan Fiction. The basic line of thought in this tale is that Harry decides not to trust the Advance Guard in Chapter Three of the Order of the Phoenix and instead decides to strike out and do something on his own terms for once. He will be independent, he will be somewhat powerful, he will be trying to avoid any plans Dumbledore has for him…it should be interesting. This chapter is only about 2,300 words, following chapters will be 4000-6000 words long. I hope you enjoy reading this…_

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><p>If Harry had ever flown in an aeroplane, he would know what it's like to fly over a city at night. A patchwork of orangey gold lights, glowing at him from the darkness below, like an illuminated spider web. Lights from the streetlamps, lights from headlamps and light from an innumerable number of Muggle homes shining into the clear August night. Except, Harry wasn't in a tube of aluminium flying at four-hundred miles an hour at thirty-five thousand feet. He was cruising at sixty miles an hour at one thousand five hundred feet on a broomstick; the Firebolt his godfather had bought for him during his third year at Hogwarts. It had a top speed of well over a hundred and fifty miles an hour. The only reason he was cruising at such a slow speed was because his trunk was hanging from his broom, secured by a series of leather straps. Also, he wasn't flying alone, but in the company of at least a dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix flying in a tight formation. Destination unknown. Or at least it was to Harry, but then to Harry, almost any place would be better than what amounted to twenty-three hour solitary confinement at number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, courtesy of the Dursleys. Or was it?<p>

Harry didn't know where he was going. Harry was in the company of people he really didn't know. All on the orders of a man who hardly knew him but did things for the 'greater good'. All of this in a world invisible to Muggles and a magical government who would do anything to conceal the truth from its citizens. When he thought about it, Harry almost could compare the Ministry of Magic to the likes of the Government of North Korea or any other totalitarian state under a 'repressive dictator' – where the population are only told what they need to know, when they need to know it. Harry had developed this comparison through listening to the Six O'Clock news from the flowerbed under the Dursleys' living room window.

This train of thought was subconsciously running through his mind as he slowly froze to his broom after Mad-Eye Moody decided to double back once again somewhere over Hampton Court Palace. These people had left him in the dark for four weeks whilst the wizarding world seemed to roll on with daily ministrations in the _Daily Prophet_ of how the world was functioning perfectly normally and how any notion that a certain Dark Wizard had returned was merely a rumour spread by Dumbledore, Potter and Friends. They'd even gone as far as questioning Harry's mental state – _"Does Harry Potter have PTSD?"_ was the title of an article in the _Prophet_ the previous week. The article when on to explain that PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was, defining it as "a Muggle mind ailment…no cure…victims often hallucinate…reliving previous experiences in their dreams". The paper was bold enough to suggest that the death of Harry's parents had led to these visions of You-Know-Who. The article was a hatchet job, reusing many quotes from Malfoy and Company and repainting them to portray him as mentally unstable with a talent for telling tales. Harry tore the paper up in disgust.

But back to tonight, why rescue him tonight? Four days after the Dementor attack, particularly after telling him not to leave home and not to surrender his wand to any Ministry officials? If they wanted to rescue him, why not do it as soon as possible? But of course, Dumbledore had his reasons. These were the very same reasons for allowing Voldemort to possess Quirell and then teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in his first year, for allowing the spirit of said Dark Lord to re-enter the castle the following year, letting the Dementors of Azkaban guard the school and nearly kiss an innocent man who just happened to be his godfather. (Who was obviously innocent of any crime all along, yet still managed to get twelve years in Azkaban without trial. Even then Dumbledore neglected to intervene.). And then to top it all, Dumbledore managed to bring all kinds of deadly magical creatures to a school full of children for an adult contest of strength and despite 'adequate precautions' Harry still managed to get entered for a contest he wanted nothing to do with whilst a polyjuiced Death Eater masqueraded as Moody and proceeded to teach Defence using all manner of dark curses. Harry was seriously wondering whether his school was a place of learning or an intricate death trap.

This wasn't to mention the fact that after he so dutifully alerted the wizarding world to the rebirth of Voldemort, he had been cut off by said world almost all together.

Then Harry had his moment of enlightenment. Conjecture; I get hurt whenever Dumbledore has 'his reasons' or a 'plan'. Supposition; Dumbledore and his plans are both very stupid and I would be better off not complying with them or him. Result; what am I doing freezing on a broom when I could be in a nice warm bed, say at the Leaky Cauldron. Action; get out of the air and away from these people carrying out Dumbledore's plan.

With a loud laugh, Harry turned his broomstick into a dive and the benefits of having a Firebolt over a Comet Two-Sixty began to show. Even with the added luggage, Harry was doing well over a hundred miles an hour in a steep dive down to a hundred feet before he pulled up. The Advance Guard of Order members didn't know what to think. They had no contingency plan for this – it was unthinkable that Harry would try to escape.

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><p>"He's gone Alastor, if we were a little faster we could have caught him but any spells we could have cast would have done more damage than good in these conditions," said Remus Lupin wearily after they had combed the sky in all directions for two and a half miles. Although he didn't show it, inside he was smirking. Harry's escape was stupid but brilliant, and it had worked. If, it was stupid but it worked then by that logic it wasn't stupid. Had they been in a different situation, Remus would have applauded his ingenuity.<p>

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><p>"Damn!" the elderly auror exclaimed, "Even my eye isn't picking anything up."<p>

"Do we go after him?" asked Tonks breathlessly.

"If he's gone, it means he doesn't want to be found for some reason. He can look after himself, we might as well wait in the warm at Grimmauld Place." Remus explained.

"Agreed, there's nothing to be done here." Kingsley added his opinion to the mix.

"There's no point searching any longer, Potter's a competent flier, he could be miles away by now. Let's go and report back, we'll start looking in likely places tomorrow morning."

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><p>As it happened, Harry wasn't that far away, speeding at treetop height across Muggle London still under the disillusionment charm Moody had cast upon him earlier that evening. Once the adrenaline rush of his escape had subsided, Harry took a moment to assess where he actually was. Currently he was flying north-west and approaching the bright orange ribbon that was the M4 motorway. This was according to his relative position to Polaris, the North Star. He could see the bright white lights of Heathrow Airport to the west and the glow of Central London to the east. With this in mind, he turned east and headed into the city.<p>

When the Advance Guard returned, minus Harry there was uproar and Dumbledore was immediately sent for.

"He gave us the slip Albus, a superb display of evasive flying!" Moody explained.

"Does anyone have any idea where Harry could have gone? It is imperative that we find him before someone else does." Dumbledore asked the occupants of number twelve Grimmauld Place who had all gathered in the kitchen.

"Could he have gone to the Burrow?" Molly suggested.

"Impossible, he wouldn't know where to look at night." Fred refuted his mother.

"Hogwarts?"

"Too far."

"Godric's Hollow?"

"He's never been there before. And I doubt he knows where it is."

"Diagon Alley?"

"It's where he went after he escaped the Dursleys two years ago. And he's going to have to go into Gringotts soon, to make a withdrawal." Dumbledore surmised. "I suggest we set up watch on the Alley from tomorrow, for now get some sleep, it's been a long night."

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><p>After an hour of careful navigation, including several minutes spent studying the public tourist maps seen on every street corner of every major city, and careful analysis of over a dozen road signs. Harry found himself level with Lord Nelson himself at the top of his column in Trafalgar Square. It was certainly an interesting perspective, although not one that Harry enjoyed for long. Even in the early hours of the morning, London is still a hive of activity. Harry dived down to street level to get his bearings before zooming back up to roof top level on the final stretch of his journey along the Charing Cross Road.<p>

He landed neatly opposite the Leaky Cauldron before crossing the road and entering the warm pub. The bar was nearly empty, a single cloaked figure drinking in a shady corner and a witch snoring at one of the tables. Tom was still at the bar, wiping glasses for the next day's trade. At first because of the disillusionment charm the elderly barman didn't see him.

"Good evening Tom." Harry called.

"Whose there?" replied the startled barman.

"It's Harry Potter, I'm under a disillusionment charm."

"One moment Mr Potter, let me see you properly." Tom exclaimed, surprised that one of his most famous customers was here in the early hours of the morning. He muttered something before Harry felt the charm lifting. "Good evening Mr Potter, what can I do for you?"

"A room please Tom."

"Of course Mr Potter. May I be right to assume that you do not wish it known that you are here?" Tom took pride in his discretion, being the gatekeeper between two worlds meant that he came across all sorts of people every day, from the Minister of Magic to the cruellest of Death Eaters. You-Know-Who could order a drink at the bar and he wouldn't tell a soul.

"You would be right. How much for the room?" Harry was digging in his trunk for his money bag.

"Don't worry about that Mr Potter, just settle your account before you leave. Will you be requiring breakfast?"

"As early as possible please."

"If you would just sign here Mr Potter." Tom held out a ledger for Harry to sign. "And your key, room 17, second floor, first on the left."

"Could you help me with my trunk?" With a flick of his wand, Tom vanished the trunk.

"It will be waiting in your room."

"Thank you. Although I'm surprised that you haven't asked me why I'm here."

"I don't want to know Mr Potter. Good night."

"Good night."

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><p>Harry climbed the stairs to his room to find Hedwig perched on top of a chair hooting softly. The snowy owl tilted her head to indicated three pieces of parchment lying on the bed.<p>

The first one he looked at was from Sirius:

_Harry,_

_Where are you? Write back to me immediately. Everyone is really worried. Get in touch!_

_Padfoot_

_PS: Moody compliments your evasive flying._

The second was a bit longer and from Hermione:

_Harry_

_How could you be so stupid? Running off like that. Where are you? Dumbledore and the others are planning to search for you tomorrow. I'm sorry but I can't say any more than that. Tell us where you are. Some of us are getting worried._

_Hermione_

Surprisingly, the third one was in Dumbledore's recognisably thin loopy handwriting:

_Dear Harry,_

_I urge you to contact us immediately as we currently have no idea where you are. It is imperative we find you before the Ministry of Magic or the Death Eaters do. We are trying to protect you. And while Alastor Moody and I complement you in your skilful flying, we do not condone your actions. I repeat once again, contact one of us or Miss Granger or the Weasleys or your godfather at once._

_Yours in urgency,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

Harry debated whether it was worth replying but he scribbled out a few lines on a piece of parchment.

_If I haven't been found then maybe it's my intention that none of you find me. For once I have no intention in following a hair-brained scheme that will result in my death or injury. I will get in contact when I am ready. Please reassure my friends and my godfather that I am safe._

_HP._

He then gave it to Hedwig to give to Dumbledore with instructions; "Be as fast as possible, don't wait for a reply." Hedwig then set out into the night.

Harry then thoughts then turned to sleep, which enveloped him from the second his head hit the pillow.

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><p><em>AN: Well, let me know what you think. Chapters 2 and 3 have already been written so give your feedback now and you might influence some change! Those who follow my other story; "Inheritance" will recognise some OC's from that story. Let me know your opinion; be it a comment, a criticism, a correction or a praise, leave a review. Follow and favourite. Chapter 2 to come soon._


	2. Chapter 2 - Banking in a Backward Nation

**Trinity; Chapter 2 – Banking in a Backward Nation**

_A/N: Hello! There has so far been a 100% positive response to this story which is nice! Here is Chapter 2; in which we set the political scene for this story… This sort of chapter length will hopefully be the average length for any future chapters!_

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><p>Harry woke bright and early the next morning. He was one of the first people awake and eating breakfast which he did with gusto. A full English breakfast courtesy of Tom was infinitely better than the prison rations Petunia Dursley would feed him during the summer.<p>

After swallowing the last mouthfuls of his meal, put on his cloak and checked that he had everything he wanted for today before tapping the appropriate brick in the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron to open the gateway to Magical London's premier shopping district.

Diagon Alley at half past seven in the morning is a quiet place, well quieter than it usually is during the summer. There were a few street traders setting up stalls for the day and Harry could see wizards and witches rolling up the shutters and pulling up the blinds ready to welcome in a new day of trade. Harry even saw a wizard selling the day's _Prophet_ proclaiming that an investigation into practices at Hogwarts had started with its findings being revealed in a few months' time. For once, Harry was thankful his face wasn't on the front page. Even so, Harry was careful to keep his face hidden with the help of the hood on his cloak.

Harry walked on through the alley to his first (and as it turned out, only) destination of the day; Gringotts Bank. Its white marble edifice, gleaming in the morning sun and reflected by the gleaming silver doors. Harry glanced up at the inscription in the small entrance hall to the bank before he was bowed through a second set of bronze doors into the trading floor of the bank by a pair of goblins clad in scarlet and gold:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

When he appeared on the marble colonnaded trading floor of Gringotts, Harry's eyes went up to the massive crystal chandeliers that hung elegantly from the ceiling and further to the giant glass dome which let copious quantities of natural light into the building making the space fresh and airy.

Harry took off his cloak and held it in the crook of his arm before finding the small gold key to his vault in the pocket of his jeans where it was sitting along with his wand. Unlike the Alley, Gringotts was already bustling. Goblins were preparing for the day's trading with the aim of making as much profit as possible. Harry could see them making notes in ledgers, examining weighing and measuring collections of gemstones and trading vast quantities of gold and silver. There were very few wizards in the bank so early in the morning. As it happened, Harry Potter was Gringotts' first customer of the day.

Harry confidently strode up to the nearest teller who was currently examining a large blue crystal with a small magnifying glass. The goblin put the gem aside when he saw Harry. "Good morning, I would like to make a withdrawal from my vault."

"Name please."

"Harry James Potter," the goblin raised an eyebrow.

"One moment please," the goblin hopped off his stall and went to speak with one of his colleagues before returning a few moments later with another goblin. "I assume you have your key?" Harry nodded. "Copperbolt here will take you to your vault." The teller indicated his companion before issuing a series of commands in what Harry assumed was Gobbledygook. Once they had finished, Copperbolt led Harry through a set of green baize doors to the cart station where he whistled for a rickety cart.

"What is the vault number?"

"Six hundred and eighty seven."

"Very well," and with that they were off on a rollercoaster ride through the caverns that stretched for miles under London. After several minutes, the cart slowed to a stop and Harry handed his goblin guide the key to open the vault. Once the vault was open, Harry gathered a copious amount of gold, silver and bronze and stuffed it into a money bag before indicating to Copperbolt that he was finished.

When the cart rolled bank into the station, Harry was greeted by two heavily armed and armoured goblin guards:

"Mr Potter, if you would come with us please," ordered the taller of the two.

"Why? Where are we going?"

"The director wishes to speak with you. If you would follow us please. Don't try to use your wand, your head would be separated from your body before you cast a spell," the guard warned with a grin as Harry winced.

"As you wish," was his only reply before the goblins marched upstairs.

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><p>Harry's escort left him in a large ante-office, staffed by a single secretary behind a large wooden desk. The secretary was a young blonde haired woman who about twenty five and she was dressed like the PA of any senior official in any company or business in the country, a sensible white blouse, black jacket and black pencil skirt.<p>

"Please wait here, Anthea will take care of you," were the only orders Harry received.

"Hello Mr Potter, I'm Anthea. Director Pronick will be with you shortly. Can I get you anything in the meantime?"

"No thank you." Harry replied. For the next couple of minutes, the room was filled with an uneasy silence. Anthea was the one to break it.

"You want to ask me something so ask me?"

"No, I'm just surprised that's all."

"What about?"

"The fact that I've been summoned to the office of the director of a goblin bank and finds he has a human secretary."

"All I'll say is that Filius Flitwick is not the only human with some goblin blood in their veins. My great grandmother on my father's side was a goblin, we've always enjoyed close ties to the nation."

"Oh," Harry said if in understanding, "it still doesn't explain why I'm here though."

"And I'm not the one who can answer that." Anthea replied briskly.

"Well who can?"

"That would be me," said a gruff voice and Harry turned to see a taller than average goblin flanked by two guards approaching him. Pronick dismissed the guards in Gobbledygook before continuing.

"Anthea, could you get us a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits, anything you would like to add Mr Potter? No? That will be all Anthea. Now Mr Potter if you would like to come in and take a seat." Pronick led him into the office of the director of the Bank.

"As you may have been able to tell, I am Pogrook Pronick, Director of Gringotts Bank. You must be wondering why I've brought you here."

"Yes."

"Well I have to tell you that this is a very unusual occurrence. You are one of a handful of non-Gringotts, non-goblin beings to ever enter this room and possibly the only one who has entered this room armed. Of course, in the current circumstances, it would be very unwise to surrender your wand to anyone. But you have my word, you have nothing to fear here. You are in possibly the safest room in the safest building in the country and since we have no intention to attack you, you are perfectly safe."

"I can put my wand on the desk if you wish."

"It's of little consequence now, if you wanted me dead, I'd have already killed you in self-defence and if I wanted you dead, I could have had you butchered on the trading floor or fried by a dragon at the drop of a hat."

"And yet here I am." Harry attempted to inject a little humour into the conversation. To his surprise, the goblin opposite him chuckled. Before he could say anything there was a knock at the door and Anthea brought in a silver tea service, two bone china cups and a plate of biscuits.

"Thank you Anthea." Pronick waited until the young secretary had left before continuing. "As I was saying, you must be wondering why you're here. Well the answer is simple. Gringotts is concerned. Now I'm not sure if you know much about politics so I'll give you a basic overview."

"That would be helpful, everything I know about British Magical Politics is that the Ministry of Magic, headed by a Minister of Magic is the government and there is a body called the Wizengamot which votes on laws like Parliament."

"I was going to explain goblin politics however, I may as well enlighten you as to the matters of wizards seeing as you are in the dark."

"An enlightenment would be helpful." Harry smiled, having no desire to anger a goblin and as said goblin wasn't angry with him, in fact he wanted to help him Harry was quite comfortable. He could be doing worse things with his time.

"As you know, the Ministry of Magic is the official government of Magical Britain. It has three component parts; the office of the Minister, the Wizengamot and Ministry departments. At its most basic level, ministry departments create legislation which is then voted upon by members of the Wizengamot and given to the Minister for Magic for final approval as Her Majesty's proxy in all matters magical. However unlike the Queen, the Minister actually has a political interest while Her Majesty can only sit back and watch her Muggle government either make a successful of itself or be voted out of office at the next election.

The full Wizengamot totals around 250 witches and wizards and is comprised of the head of every major ministry department, every Order of Merlin First Class winner and the head of every House of Note. Houses of Note are titled families, for example, your godfather Sirius Black is a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, as the last surviving male member of the family, he also holds the title of Head of House Black and if he were not on the run from Azkaban, he would be entitled to a seat on the Wizengamot. Noble and Most Ancient Houses are the most senior houses in the Wizengamot, other examples include the houses of Bones and Abbott. The next in the line of seniority are the Most Ancient Houses and Most Noble Houses such as Selwyn or Paget followed by Ancient Houses such as Hall or Macmillan and then finally at the bottom of the food chain are the Noble Houses – these are the newest additions in the Wizengamot and some of the wealthiest in our society, families like Parkinson, Greengrass and Hughes."

"Do the Malfoys have a Wizengamot seat?"

"No, they are a relatively minor family. Most of the Malfoy fortune came from the Blacks when Lucius married Narcissa. It's quite ironic really that they think that they are better than everyone else. The Malfoy ancestors were French and so the family is ineligible for ascension to the Wizengamot – all of the Houses of Note have at the very least a historical British root."

"Malfoy is related to Sirius?"

"A cousin I believe. You have to remember that until very recently, the Blacks were considered dark, which leads me to my next point. The Wizengamot is then further divided into political factions – there are three main ones; the Light, the Dark and the Neutral faction. The Light families often have more diverse bloodlines and are more liberal in their view of the magical world with Dumbledore being seen as their leader. The Dark families are almost religiously pureblood with strong conservative views on matters such as blood purity and secrecy – many of these families were contributors to the Campaigns of Terror wrought by Tom Riddle. Many of these individuals denied their actions during the first war and claimed the use of the Imperious Curse as a defence. Regrettably they could never be tried under Veritaserum as they all claimed "Pureblood Privilege" – as the members of a pureblood line that has remained pure since records began.

The Neutrals are a more interesting set of families with differing views on a variety of subjects and so flit between to the other two sides. If you wanted to stay on the theme of colours, we could call them Grey – they aren't as light as the Light, but not as prejudiced as the Dark."

"Do the Potters feature in any of this?"

"And so we come to the Bank's first concern. The House of Potter is like the House of Black, an Ancient and Most Noble one. Yet unlike the Blacks who were considered an influential Dark family, the Potters were notable members of the Light although known to be Neutral on occasion."

"I was never told about this, not by Dumbledore or by Sirius."

"And it is here that Gringotts feels it must make its first apology, when you first came to us five years ago, we assumed you knew of your status, obviously not."

"But what does it mean? Do I have a seat in the Wizengamot when I come of age?"

"Yes, and herein lies our second concern. We goblins value honesty as much as we value gold or precious gems which is why we have decided to inform you of a couple of things. We are very aware of the fact that you were entered as an underage contestant into the Triwizard Tournament. And as I am sure you know, that contest was only meant for contestants who were of age."

"And I was then forced to compete in the contest which ended with me witnessing a death of a friend and the rebirth of Voldemort."

"We two have seen the recent activity of Mr Riddle, with daily withdrawals made from his account, however we have no official jurisdiction seize his accounts without Ministry approval, and to do so without it would provoke a constitutional crisis as financially Mr Riddle has done everything perfectly legally. It would strike fear into members of British magical society if Gringotts started seizing vaults at the drop of a hat."

"Not a good idea." Harry said wryly.

"Indeed, but back to the point. You were selected by the Goblet of Fire as the second Hogwarts champion and later when you won the tournament the Minister for Magic himself gave you the prize money."

"I didn't want it, I gave it away."

"It is of little consequence, a thousand galleons to you would be the equivalent of loose change when compared to the extent of your holdings."

"What do you mean? A thousand galleons is a lot money!"

"We'll get there in a moment." Pronick paused, Harry nodded. "As you know, the production of your name by the Goblet invoked a binding magical contract."

"It's why I couldn't pull out of the tournament."

"However, what you perhaps were unaware of is the fact that the Goblet only recognises the names of witches and wizards it deems to be of age, furthermore, the terms of the Tournament held last year stated that 'all contestants must be of age in order to compete and will be selected by the Goblet of Fire.' Dumbledore's age line was merely a precaution."

"And this means?"

"It means that Magic herself recognised you as being of age. The actions of the Minister could also be construed as unofficial recognition of your unofficial emancipation."

"Why hasn't anyone told me this before?"

"I have no idea, the idea that Magic herself can emancipate people in the right circumstances is an unusual and obscure one. What I can tell you is that Gringotts is only able to tell you now because this is the first time we have been able to successfully communicate the news to you – our correspondence over the last month has been returned unopened."

"I've never received anything from Gringotts."

"Interesting – something that we will investigate. However it is possible that somebody is intercepting your post."

"What does this 'unofficial emancipation mean'?"

"It gives you a base for formal emancipation, in other words, you'll become of age before your seventeenth birthday and can be treated as an adult by society. It will also give you access to the Potter Estate which has been seen as one of the most valuable in the country."

"Just how much are we talking about here?" Asked an incredulous Harry who was surprised that he had much more in the magical world beyond the pile of gold in his vault.

"Not including the value of an extensive property portfolio, around two million galleons that we know. The properties alone are worth five times that. The Potters may have had accounts abroad – Switzerland being the most likely place but Gringotts has not investigated the matter and Swiss goblins are notoriously discrete."

"Two million galleons too much to think about." Harry digested his thoughts as he consumed a Ginger Newt and sipped from his tea cup. "What has the Estate been doing since my parents died?"

"Nothing of note, your money just happily accruing revenue – around 200,000 galleons over the past decade, thanks to some wise investments made by your ancestors. It's or about £1.6 million in Muggle terms."

"The pound is worth what eight to the galleon?" Pronick nodded. "So I have sixteen million sitting in the bank and eighty million pounds worth of property."

"Yes." Harry whistled. "And that's all we know. Gringotts doesn't record anything beyond the amount of money in your vault and the amount of property you own – we use it as collateral for any debts you may incur with us. There could be anything from priceless artefacts to lustrous gems to exceedingly rare books. Nobody has been in the vault since your parents died."

"Who controls the vault?"

"Nobody, it's held in trust by Gringotts until you come of age, then it is yours to play with. Yet thanks to this latest-"

"-information about the Goblet of Fire I could have it today?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Sadly no, as I said you are only unofficially emancipated at the moment. The Ministry would have to formalise it."

"And why would they do that? They detest me. Have you seen the _Prophet_? 'Potter unstable', 'Dumbledore; daft or dangerous', 'Potter; what will he lie about next?' – I could go on but you get the picture."

"Gringotts will back your emancipation. Should the Ministry refuse your request, we can apply a certain amount of financial pressure but our support is subject to certain conditions."

"Name them – I've had enough of people manipulating me behind my back, it's nice to see somebody talk to me openly."

"We would require your backing for a proposed Bill of Goblin Rights to be passed in the Wizengamot within the next decade. We would also want your backing in the seizure of the vaults of convicted Death Eaters in reparations for what that particular organisation did to the Goblin Nation."

"What would the Goblin Bill of Rights include?"

"Representation on the Wizengamot or any future body that may replace it, less residence restrictions and recognition that we are equal to wizards or witches."

"I can back that. Are there any other terms?"

"We would want you to become an honorary member of the Goblin Nation with the aim of making you into an ambassador for the goblins in Magical Britain."

"You do know that if, no, when I defeat Voldemort, I do want to be able to carve my own path in life?"

"Of course. If all goes to plan, your role as an ambassador for the Nation would be mostly ceremonial – we would be doing most of the work."

"You don't trust a human with your affairs?"

"We don't trust anyone but ourselves, our families and the colour of money."

"It's worked well for you."

"Indeed, we have become the richest species on the planet." Harry chuckled. "Apart from our support, the only other thing you would need is a signed letter of consent from your legal guardian who I believe is Sirius Black."

"Wouldn't he have to come out of hiding and be cleared of all charges?"

"He was never charged with anything. He technically isn't an escaped convict and as I am sure you know neither is he a mass murderer. As far as the law is concerned, he hasn't actually committed a crime. There are no laws against breaking out of Azkaban because the Ministry never thought it possible."

"And so from then on it's just present the letter to the Minister and hope he accepts?"

"For maximum effect we would suggest you do it in a very public place where you can state your case."

"So my hearing would be the ideal place?"

"Hearing?"

"I've got to attend a hearing at the Ministry on August the twelfth because I came across two Dementors last week and had to cast a patronus charm in front of my Muggle cousin to save him."

"Dementors? Now that is interesting."

"Do you believe me?"

"It was the last spell you cast with your wand?"

"Yes."

"May I examine your wand? Goblins have their own magic with which we can examine such weapons. I can reproduce an image of the events that took place that night." Harry placed the wand on Pronick's immaculate mahogany desk. The goblin then waved a long bony hand above it and muttered a few phrases in Gobbledygook. Then the tip of Harry's wand started to glow before projecting an image onto the surface of the desk. It was almost like looking at a memory from inside a pensieve except much more comfortable. Pronick watched in amazement as Harry produced Prongs and looked on as the ethereal creature charged down both Dementors.

"That's a bit like than Priori Incantatem."

"But superior to it. And to answer your earlier question, we believe you. It also produces another troublesome issue, the Ministry are allegedly in control of the Dementors and are therefore responsible for them."

"Didn't Voldemort use them last time?"

"Yes he did, so it does beg the question; what were two Dementors doing so far from Azkaban and so close to Harry Potter?"

"It could be Voldemort?"

"Yet there is also an equally probable and more worrying alternative; that being that someone from the Ministry ordered the Dementor there and that no doubt you were the target – I don't think that there is much magic in Little Whinging."

"Except for the Dursleys, the only person who knows about magic is Mrs Figg, she's a squib member of the Order of the Phoenix – the secret society Dumbledore founded to defeat Voldemort. They were meant to be protecting me. Fat lot of good that did me!" Harry remarked.

"If we are to be partners, I will ether send myself or Anthea along with you to this hearing."

"A little support would be appreciated."

"If necessary, we can use what I have just witnessed as evidence. You should have an iron clad defence, and then we can ask questions about the Dementors."

"Good because I would like some answers."

"If we really wanted to ruffle some feathers and leave some noses out of joint, we could always reveal your godfather."

"Is that wise? Fudge could have him clapped in irons and be on the next boat to Azkaban within seconds and we couldn't do a thing about it."

"There are ways around that. We could send him in with a goblin escort – the aurors wouldn't dare touch him or better still we could also make him an honorary goblin citizen – then he would be outside Ministry jurisdiction."

"I'll have to speak with him about it, but I have to ask; why now? Why all of this now?" asked Harry.

"The conditions are ripe – even better now thanks to what you have just told me. The Ministry of Magic is too worried about any mention of Voldemort shattering the tentative peace we enjoy today. They've become paranoid, looking for the enemy within. They have completely forgotten about us – the Goblin Liaison Department has had its manpower slashed. And the Nation is fed up – we are tired of the prejudice, the restrictions, the legislation, we just want to be equal. We want to start the ball rolling before Voldemort becomes too big a problem. It doesn't help that Magical Britain is a backward country."

"Backward? In what way?"

"Look at the United States; the US Magical Congress is elected by the people – every sentient magical being has a vote. Magical America has seamlessly merged with Muggle USA. The magically able, hide their abilities from the rest of the world but they still embrace Muggle culture and the Muggle way of life. The idea of blood purity is a myth across the pond. It is a sweet land of Liberty. What's really ironic is that the British concept of blood purity is as convoluted as can be – every other member of the International Confederation of Wizards recognises the term 'pureblood' as one whose parents are both capable of magic. Technically, a Muggleborn couple can have a child and everyone outside Magical Britain would see it as a pureblood. Us British have taken the term to its most extreme and purged ourselves of all Muggle connections. To think that the average British pureblood has never used electricity, flown on an aeroplane or made a telephone call. Even then it's ironic to think that on average Muggleborns have greater magical potential than British purebloods yet most are alienated by our world or if they chose to live with us, they lose all they know and love in Muggle Britain.

British Magical Society has become completely cut off from the ideals of the modern Wizarding world. The average British wizard hasn't heard of Shakespeare, they don't know the name of the monarch or the Prime Minister, they ignore the achievements of Muggles. Muggles have climbed the highest mountains, descended to deepest points in the oceans, set foot on the moon, circumnavigated the globe, seen the birth of stars and the start of time. They've sent probes millions of miles into space, built empires, theorised as to why we exist and when we'll stop existing. All of this while the average British wizard can't even put Great Britain on a map, has never heard of football and would get confused if faced with the prospect of a journey to a Muggle shop. Ordinary Muggle aspects of life would be alien to them.

If you look almost anywhere else in the world, magic has nearly been seamlessly integrated into the Muggle world. Wizards and witches from Los Angeles to Tokyo have embrace the modern Muggle world. To cap it all, we have a Ministry who are spouting the equivalent of declaring how we are the greatest country in the world with our superior breeding – a Muggle leader once declared the same thing. His name was Adolf Hitler."

"I want to change that."

"The Goblin Nation wants you to change that. We British goblins have no desire to leave Britain, it's our home. We want to make it the best in the world and we want your help."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Readers of my other story 'Inheritance' will no doubt recognise the character of Pogrook Pronick. Rest assured, he and Anthea will be the only major OCs. Any other OCs will have very minor parts to play. Please leave a review or use any of those nice shiny buttons below! Whether it be a correction, criticism, comment or praise, your opinion is valued! Next time; Harry's hearing…_


	3. Chapter 3 - The Hearing

**Trinity; Chapter 3 – The Hearing**

_A/N: Hello, welcome to Chapter 3 of this tale. This is an alternate parallel to the chapter of the same name in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I hope you enjoy it…_

* * *

><p>"You're late," called Fudge as Harry entered the Wizengamot chamber.<p>

"We were only just told that the time and location had changed." Harry responded, he sounded irritated.

"That isn't our concern. Take your seat." Harry's eyes fell on the chair in the centre of the chamber, its arms covered in chains. He uneasily took his seat, the chains didn't bind him. Harry looked up at the people sat in galleries around him. It was like being on the stage. Fudge was sat at a podium directly in front of him.

"Now, seeing as the defendant has shown us the courtesy of actually arriving before us…are you ready?" Fudge called out to his right.

"Yes, sir," called Percy Weasley from the right of the podium.

"Very, well. I hereby call this disciplinary hearing of twelfth of August into actions committed by Harry James Potter of Little Whinging, Surrey, to order. The indictment reads as follows; on the second of August, Harry James Potter cast the patronus charm in the presence of his Muggle cousin. By doing so he violated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy. Interrogators for today's hearing are myself, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe – Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

"Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," called the esteemed warlock quietly from behind Harry. Harry turned to look at his headmaster, he stood serene. Dumbledore was dressed in flowing midnight blue robes, his silver beard and half-moon spectacles glinting in the torchlight.

The reaction of the members of the Wizengamot was mixed. Harry heard muttering from the body of witches and wizards in front of him. Some looked annoyed, others were looking worried, whilst two elderly witches at the back smiled and waved in welcome at the former Chief Warlock.

For Harry, this was an entirely unexpected development, but a welcome one nonetheless. It gave him strength for what was about to happen next. Fudge looked flustered.

"You – er – got our – er – message that the time and – er – place of this hearing had – er – changed then?"

"I must have missed it but due to a series of fortunate coincidences, I found myself at the Ministry some two hours early on other business. It's good to see you looking so well Harry, if we could have a word when all of this is over."

Harry nodded.

"Yes – well – I suppose we need another chair. I don't suppose – Weasley if you could – "

"Not to worry, not to worry," Dumbledore said pleasantly before conjuring a squashy chintz armchair out of thin air.

"Ah – yes – um – where were we – the charges, the charges are as – "

"Witness for the defence; Anthea Mary Morgan, employee of Gringotts Bank."

Anthea conjured herself an exact replica of her office chair before taking her seat. "Madam, I am sure that this body would like to know how you are relevant to this case?" asked Dumbledore, surprised at this latest development.

"I was told not to tell you about it, but I'm here as a character witness for Mr Potter."

"Told by whom?" asked Dumbledore and Fudge almost simultaneously.

There answer came from behind Harry's seat as the doors to the Wizengamot chamber opened for the second time since the hearing had begun.

"She was told by me. Witness for the defence; Pogrook Pronick, Director of Gringotts Bank, London; Councillor to his Imperial Majesty Ragnuk XVII, Foreign Minister of the Goblin Nation etcetera."

There was a look of unease shared between the members of the Wizengamot as the half a dozen goblin body guards accompanying Pronick assembled two chairs, placing them level with Harry's on the floor of the chamber before standing respectfully behind them.

"His Imperial Majesty sends his greetings Minister Fudge. We have come to see justice being done. I am also here as a character witness for Mr Potter, that is after we have settled a minor matter of bureaucracy which I'll come to in a moment."

Harry looked around the chamber for the third person he had been expecting but saw nobody.

"_Hem, hem_. Director Pronick, I request that you dismiss your associates," called a small, toad faced woman wearing a pink bow in her hair in a high pitched girlish voice whilst indicating the body guards. "You have no authority to bring them here."

"On the contrary, Madam Undersecretary, I have as much authority to bring them here in the interests of my friends as you do to take up the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts this coming year, despite your lack of experience in the subject and the small matter of failing your OWL when you yourself were a student."

Umbridge looked like she had just swallowed sour milk but pressed on in her high pitched voice; "In the interests of the school, the students and the Ministry, I was the best qualified candidate but, do tell us the identity of this friend you wish to protect."

"That would be me," a disembodied voice echoed throughout the chamber. Harry had to suppress a smile as the Wizengamot looked around for the source of the voice, for a brief moment, Dumbledore's serene look vanished. "Thank you, my Lords, Ladies and gentlemen. Particularly to Director Pronick here for his assistance in bringing me here today and to his lovely assistant Anthea in organising this outing," the voice called jovially, as if he was here to win an award. "It's been too long, to think that last time I was in this room, Harry was still in nappies," the voice reminisced. "Amelia, you are looking well, we must go for a drink in the Leaky Cauldron after this. Minister, it's been a long time since we met face to face, I should thank you for keeping me informed about the world while I was away. Madam Umbridge, how high you have risen, you weren't even a deputy department head when I last was in this wonderful establishment. You'll have to tell me how you find your new job at Hogwarts, a friend of mine recently said it was some of the best time of his life," the voice mocked Umbridge.

"Who are you?" she retorted.

"Oh so impatient…they don't appreciate the wonder of performance. By the way, Mulciber, Parkinson, Avery, Nott, please send your master my greetings upon his return from his fourteen year exile. I hope he's enjoying his new body and his new friend in Wormtail. But to business and I believe that Madam Undersecretary Umbridge asked of my identity, so like a courteous Lord I shall answer, in time. But let me just finish renewing old acquaintances.

Albus, it's good to see you! Tell Molly that to all intents and purposes I'll be home for dinner. I'm so sorry for not telling you about this in advance! Harry, I'm here as promised, so let's begin shall we?"

"My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I present – "

Ever the showman, the newcomer removed his invisibility cloak with a flourish and materialised in the middle of the body of witches and wizards that ruled Magical Britain and with his voice still amplified, announced himself.

"- Witness for the defence; Sirius Orion Black, Lord Black, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Friend of the Goblin Nation. I'm here to claim my family seat, to emancipate my godson, to clear my name and then go to have a drink at the Leaky Cauldron with your charming head of the DMLE. Let's begin then shall we? I thought this body made laws and enacted justice, not sat dumbstruck at the sight of a newcomer. So what do you want to do first?"

* * *

><p>Harry wanted to hug his godfather.<p>

The first thing Fudge wanted to do was shout "seize him" before appearing triumphantly appearing on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ under the headline "Minister captures mass murderer!"

Dumbledore wanted to give Sirius a good telling off and send him back to Grimmauld Place with his tail between his legs.

Umbridge wanted to call the Dementors and have the intruder kissed.

Amelia Bones didn't know whether to be shocked or amused.

Pronick and Anthea, both having some experience of the Muggle world, wanted to leave and get some popcorn before returning to watch the drama unfold.

* * *

><p>Fudge acted first.<p>

Fudge acted first without remembering the presence of Pronick's bodyguards.

Fudge shot a stunner at Sirius but it was wide of the mark. Sirius erected a shield with a lazy wave of his wand. The goblin body guards formed defensive ring of steel around their Director and Sirius. "Really Minister, you need practise and attacking a Lord, your social superior, in front of the Lords and Ladies of this land? That is nothing but bad form Cornelius." Sirius said with mock incredulity, though he had been expecting it. "I expected a better welcoming committee, no matter, I can make do."

"The only welcoming committee you should expect, Black, is from the Dementors at Azkaban who are flying here as I speak, on my orders." Umbridge spat at him before sending a patronus message.

"Oh, so you have the authority to direct the Dementors?" Sirius looked like he'd just learnt a new word for the first time. "I would warn you though, they have no prerogative to detain me."

"They have every prerogative, you are an escaped convict."

"You'll find, if you consult the official records, I was never charged and I was never convicted of any crime or sentenced to any length of time in Azkaban. As I was never convicted of any crime, by definition I can't be a convict, escaped or otherwise. Escaping from Azkaban, it may interest you to know, isn't a crime either. I'm an innocent man, with a seat on the Wizengamot and I'm here to provide some help to my godson and my friends among the goblins. His Imperial Majesty is such an interesting fellow, it would do you all some good to arrange a meeting with him.

If you do summon the Dementors, I believe my godson can defend me quite adequately, or are you under the delusion that he is just telling stories? A delusion, no doubt propagated by our esteemed Minister who also insists that Voldemort is still as dead as a doornail. But to business…"

There was an uneasy silence in the chamber before a Ministry interdepartmental memo whizzed into Umbridge's hands.

"It may interest you to know, that the Dementors are coming down here from the Atrium. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you."

"Not as pleased as I will be to see my godson's patronus." The door opened behind him and a cold sensation enveloped the room. "Ah, perfect timing. Come and get me!"

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ shouted Harry, speaking for the first time since the hearing had officially started while imagining punching the triumphant smirk on Umbridge's face.

Prongs sprang forth and circled the room at a canter before charging down the Dementors who fled. The ethereal stag then stood sentry in the door way.

"Just in case there was any doubt or confusion, my god-son who is only fifteen, just cast a corporeal patronus before your very eyes."

"Now before we continue this charade of a hearing, I believe Lord Black has a motion to propose," announced Pronick.

"Indeed Director," Sirius gave a short bow. "The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black requests that the Ministry recognise its ward Harry James Potter of the Ancient and Most Noble House Potter as a legal adult."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that you have already unofficially accepted him as an adult," said Pronick.

"We did not. When?"

"When, Minister you gave him his one thousand galleons prize money for winning the Triwizard Tournament the night Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort. As you know, the tournament is specifically for adults, by rewarding him for his efforts in the competition, you inadvertently recognised his adult status, and this is something that magic previously decided when the Goblet of Fire produced his name last year."

"Preposterous."

"Minister, I'm am afraid that upon reflection, Director Pronick is merely recounting the facts." Dumbledore said, looking weary.

"What would be the effect of his emancipation, if it were to be formalised today?" asked Madam Bones.

"His emancipation has already been formalised, I have the appropriate documentation here," replied Sirius, handing Dumbledore, Amelia and Fudge copies of the document.

"We are only asking the Ministry to recognise it. The letters of emancipation have already been recognised by the Goblin Nation. The Goblin Nation would advise that you follow our lead. If you insult Mr Potter or Lord Black or should you refuse to recognise the facts, there will be dire consequences for those involved. Not just of a financial nature."

"You have no right to make demands in this chamber, goblin," called Umbridge.

"That would be 'Director Pronick' to you madam. I am not making demands, I am sending you a warning, from his Imperial Majesty himself. Do not take it lightly. Ignore us at your peril."

Fudge and many members of the Wizengamot saw visions of empty vaults, sneering goblins and resignation letters followed by a new peace treaty. Fudge saw an opportunity and took it.

"Of course Director, we would not wish to offend his Imperial Majesty and we recognise Mr Potter as an adult. He will be treated as such by this chamber."

"I guess that voids the charge on underage magic." Sirius said to nobody in particular.

"Strike it from the record Weasley."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, seeing as the dramatics are over, let us continue."

"If I might request an adjournment Minister?" Dumbledore asked cordially.

"No Dumbledore, I have a schedule to keep." For once, Harry was on Fudge's side, he was enjoying keeping his headmaster in the dark for once rather than the other way around. Fudge turned to look at Harry. "Mr Potter, you conjured a patronus in front of your Muggle cousin on the night of August the second did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"In full knowledge that you were acting contrary to Section 13 of the International Statute of Secrecy?"

"Yes, but-"

"You were aware you were in a Muggle area?"

"Yes, but-"

"You were aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle?"

"Yes, but I only did it because-"

But Harry was cut off again by an irate Minister. "Now I'm sorry I'm going to have to curtail a carefully rehearsed story but-"

"I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE OF THE DEMENTORS!" Harry roared, the magic cascading off him like waves on a pond. Sparks of magic came from his fingertips.

"Dementors? In Little Whinging?" queried Amelia Bones.

"That's absurd." Fudge insisted. "Why would Dementors be in Surrey of all places? Dementors are under Ministry control."

"Are they really Minister? Then who ordered the attack on my god-son, was it the Ministry or was it somebody else?" Sirius declared.

"You have no witnesses, highly convenient that Muggles cannot see Dementors isn't it."

"We do in fact, have a witness, other than young Dudley Dursley."

"I haven't got time to listen to any more absurdities. I want this over as quickly as possible."

"The Wizengamot Charter of Rights clearly states the right of the accused to present witnesses in their defence. Does it not Madam Bones?"

"Indeed."

"Oh very well. Who is this person? Have you brought her with you? I can't be sitting here all day."

"She is waiting outside, shall I-"

"No, Weasley, go and bring her in."

Percy returned moments later with Mrs Figg in tow, who was still wearing her carpet slippers.

"Full name please."

"Arabella Doreen Figg," she said in a quavery voice.

"And who exactly are you?" Fudge asked in a bored and lofty voice.

"I'm a resident of Little Whinging…"

* * *

><p>"Not a very convincing witness," Fudge announced after Mrs Figg's testimony.<p>

"She accurately described a Dementor attack. Why would she come forward if it had never happened, she knows of our world and what is in it." Amelia Bones retorted.

"Madam Bones, two Dementors in a Muggle suburb just happening across a teenage wizard? The odds are astronomical."

"I don't think anybody here is assuming it is a coincidence. Why would two Dementors be so far south if they are meant to be guarding a prison in the North Sea?"

"What are you implying Dumbledore?"

"That they were ordered there."

"Dementors are only take orders from the Ministry." Fudge said confidently.

"If it is true that Dementors only take orders from the Ministry and it is also true that two Dementors attacked Mr Potter in Little Whinging then the only logical conclusion is that a person or persons within the Ministry ordered the attack. Of course, they could have been sent by somebody else." Dumbledore left the supposition hanging in the silence of the chamber. "Cornelius, I implore you to see reason." Dumbledore retorted.

"He's not back Dumbledore." Fudge replied, he sounded strained. Dumbledore sighed, dismayed at Fudge's persistence.

"If you are willing to ignore the fact that Voldemort has returned then you must ask yourself who ordered the attack, that is why the House of Black will be expecting a full, thorough and independent investigation into why, two Dementors were so far from home and so close to Harry Potter and his Muggle relatives." Sirius declared.

"The Goblin Nation will carry out its own investigation into the matter. If Dementors can freely come and go from Azkaban then our safety is at risk," declared Pronick.

"All Dementors are under Ministry control, following Ministry directives."

"So undoubtedly, the Ministry will be conducting a full scale inquiry into why they were so far from Azkaban and attacked without authorisation." Dumbledore said genially.

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry does or doesn't do," snapped Fudge.

"Of course not," Dumbledore said mildly, "I am merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated."

"I would like to remind everyone that we are here to investigate Mr Potter's actions, and not the actions of Dementors under Ministry control that may or may not have been present on that night. The Dementors are irrelevant."

"Of course they are relevant Minister. Section Thirteen, Subsection Seven of the International Statute of Secrecy clearly makes allowances for the use of magic before Muggles in life threatening situations."

"We are familiar with that particular piece of legislation thank you very much," snarled Fudge.

"So you'll have to agree that the use of the patronus charm in this case falls under said piece of legislation."

"If there were Dementors."

"You've heard it from an eye-witness."

"If you like, I can provide testimony as well," said Pronick.

"What would the Director of Gringotts Bank have to do with this?"

"I reviewed the echo of Mr Potter's magical signature after the events of August the second using Goblin magic on Mr Potter's wand. I can of course replay it for you."

"Do it. If an eyewitness account isn't enough…" Sirius said, exasperated at the inability of Fudge to believe the truth.

Pronick asked Harry to place his wand on a dais Sirius had conjured for such a purpose before waving his long bony fingers over it while muttering in Gobbledygook. The members of the Wizengamot were then faced with a life-sized projection of the events of August the second. They watched as the projected Dementors attempted to kiss Dudley Dursley, only to be charged down by Harry's patronus. The echo ended with the arrival of Mrs Figg.

"As you can see, there were Dementors that night in Little Whinging and Mr Potter cast a patronus charm with the intention of saving his Muggle cousin." Pronick summarised before replaying the echo.

"Why should we believe you, goblin?" Umbridge called.

"Madam that would be 'Director Pronick' to you, and you should believe what is being shown before you because it is undeniably the truth."

"Are you satisfied?" asked Sirius.

"Memories can be falsified." Cornelius declared.

"This is no memory. It's a magical echo, the likes of which I have never seen before. It is a remarkable piece of magic." Dumbledore exclaimed while studying the projected echo. "This is much more effective than our own efforts at spell replication, such as with _Priori Incanto._"

"If you doubt this new evidence, I'm sure that Mrs Figg wouldn't object to being questioned again." Sirius said, furious at the fact that Fudge was trying to find facts to fit whatever story he had planned for Harry's demise.

"I'm sure she would be quite happy to." Dumbledore chimed in.

"It's – I want this over today Dumbledore – and there's the small matter of Britain's most wanted man appearing before us."

"Oh come on Minister. If I wanted Harry dead, he would have died two and a half years ago. But then he is also my god son. Why would I want to kill my god son? And if I was in league with Voldemort, well he'd be here already, seizing power from you. Focus on the truth, and the facts please."

"Have you heard the amount of cock-and-bull stories that have come from his mouth Black? The hover-charm performed at his house four years ago-"

"That was a house-elf!" Harry exclaimed.

"You see? A house elf, in Muggle suburbia? I ask you."

"The house elf in question is currently employed at Hogwarts. He can be summoned in an instant."

"I have not got the time to listen to house elves…then there's the matter of him blowing up his aunt two years ago."

"If I might remind you Minister, you very kindly decided not to press charges in that case."

"And I haven't even got on to what happens when he's at school."

"Harry's education, and his actions at Hogwarts have no bearing in this case. It is not Ministry business to punish students for misdemeanours committed at school."

"Not our business? Really."

"Neither does the Ministry have the power to expel Hogwarts students, nor does the Ministry have the authority to confiscate wands without charges against the accused being successfully proven. I reminded you of these facts on the night of the second of August. In your admirable attempts to uphold the law, you seem to have inadvertently broken laws yourself."

"Laws can be changed if necessary."

"Indeed they can. Why in the few short weeks since I left the Wizengamot, it's become common practise to hold a full scale criminal trial before the entire Wizengamot to deal with a small matter of breaking the Statute of Secrecy in front of a Muggle whose late maternal aunt was a witch and whose nephew who now lives with him is a wizard!" Fudge was now turning purple.

"And just as laws can be changed, so can currency, I would like to remind you that under the treaties of 1707 and 1720, the Goblin Nation has full control over the distribution and value of the galleon. Should we lose faith in the British Magical Government, we would look to invest our gold elsewhere. Your currency would be devalued as quickly as you could say 'guilty', your government would cease to function within hours, your economy would collapse by dinner time and Voldemort would return within days. Magical Britain would be ruined. You have ceased to care about your goblin neighbours, we can look after ourselves, but if we stopped caring about you wand bearers, you would be finished." Pronick said, menace filling his words.

"Let's hope things don't get as bad as that. I for one would be disappointed, along with most of the civilised magical community." Sirius added as an afterthought.

Fudge looked like a giant raspberry.

"All I can add is that it is not the job of this body to judge Harry on every spell he's ever cast, every charm he has performed and every hex he has ever fired. We have presented his defence and we now await your verdict." Dumbledore finished, before putting his fingertips together and rested his chin upon them, whilst the Wizengamot held whispered conversations. Dumbledore was watching Harry carefully before turning his attention to Pronick. Sirius was glaring at Umbridge.

Harry mentally debated with himself whether he should have said a bit more to prove his case instead of relying on others, he hadn't really said much.

Fudge checked a small gold fob watch before clearing his throat. "All those in favour of finding the accused guilty of the charge on the indictment?"

Umbridge, and around a dozen other witches and wizards in the chamber raised their hands. Anthea made a brief note of their names.

"And all in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Most of the remainder of the chamber raised their hands.

"Any abstentions?"

A dark haired wizard three rows back and a cluster of witches on the far right raised their hands. Fudge looked very uncomfortable.

"Very – very well. You have been found not guilty by this chamber Mr Potter. You are free to go."

"Excellent." Dumbledore declared, vanishing his armchair. Sirius punched the air. Harry could only feel relief, it was like he had stopped holding his breath and relaxed.

"I must be going. Harry, Anthea will help you with any arrangements with your properties and the like, I place her at your disposal. She is yours to command. I would like to meet with you again before the end of the week, Professor Dumbledore, Lord Black, the same applies to you. Expect an eagle from me, sometime today." Pronick declared, Anthea nodded and moved to stand with Harry while Pronick's guards dismantled the chairs and marched out after their Director.

"I must also be elsewhere. Harry, I'll be in touch, I believe Molly is expecting you both back at Headquarters, Sirius." Dumbledore followed Pronick with a swish of his robes. The old wizard was deep in thought. He desperately wanted a meeting with Pronick, the engineer of the disruption of Harry's hearing. But the goblins appeared to be on Harry's side, protecting him. It couldn't hurt to have more allies against the Dark Lord. The goblins were fierce fighters who were happy to take calculated risks. Yet it upset the grand plan…

Harry hugged his godfather before Sirius was called over by Madam Bones, her eyes twinkling behind her monocle.

"Welcome back Lord Black. Before you go, if you wouldn't mind stopping in my office, you need to provide a statement of your innocence under Veritaserum."

"Charming as ever Amelia. Only if we go to the Leaky Cauldron afterwards." He shot her a grin.

"How presumptuous. Make it lunch and you're on."

"Half-past one suit you?"

"Fine by me, the sooner we get you completely exonerated, the more time I'll have to eat."

"Best get going then."

"Anthea, do my god-son a favour and take him shopping. He's the head of an Ancient and Most Noble House and he's dressed in a borrowed linen suit which I know for a fact has a large hole in the breast pocket. Let's all meet up for lunch." And then the showman departed.

"Looks like we are stuck with each other then. Madam Malkin's, Twilfit and Tattings or somewhere else?" Anthea asked.

"Apart for school uniform, I've never been clothes shopping in my life…"

"There's always a first time."

"Do we have to go to Diagon Alley?"

"I'm afraid so, if anything we need to reopen your family vault and if you want to go shopping in Muggle London then we'll have to go to the Bank to change your galleons into sterling."

"Let's get this over with then, but let's go shopping in Muggle London, I've never really seen it."

"We'll start shopping after lunch then, otherwise we won't manage to meet your god-father."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well what do you think of that? Personally I think it's one of the better chapters I have written. Chapter 4 to come as soon as it can be written. Please leave some feedback using the buttons and boxes below! _


	4. Chapter 4 - Not Even a Birthday Card

**Trinity; Chapter 4 – Not Even a Birthday Card_ (or Cotton Wool Won't Stop Voldemort)_**

_A/N: In which Harry finds fortune and changes irrevocably, but is it for better or for worse?_

* * *

><p>"Make yourself comfortable while I get the files we need," Anthea said whilst dropping her bag onto an empty chair at the conference table in the meeting room that they would be using to properly examine Harry's inheritance. The blonde witch then left the room.<p>

Harry did as he was told, he went and got himself a cup of goblin tea (something he had a growing fondness for since his first meeting Pogrook Pronick) and a few biscuits on a saucer from the tray on the sideboard. He then sat down on one of the green leather padded chairs that surrounded the dark mahogany conference table which formed the centre piece of the room.

Anthea returned a few minutes later with half a dozen folders in her arms.

"Sorry for taking so long, the number of files under 'Potter'…anyway, I managed to dig up the summary of the Potter holdings, your inheritance and your parent's wills." Anthea looked quite flustered.

"Wills?" Harry asked, "What wills, I didn't even know they existed."

"According to Albotrak in Records, the wills were sealed by the Wizengamot after your parents' deaths, until you were officially deemed to be of age. And seeing as the Wizengamot recognised this fact today, we can now look at the wills."

"Can we start with them then?" Harry asked.

Anthea handed Harry a manila envelope marked _'The Last Will and Testament of James and Lily Potter'_ on the back, Harry saw the purple wax seal of the Wizengamot sealing the envelope shut. Somebody had then added to the back of the envelope _'To be opened when Harry Potter comes of age.'_

Harry opened the envelope, breaking the seal and extracted from it, two sheets of parchment. They were near identical and both were short and to the point:

* * *

><p><em>I the undersigned, name my wife; Lily Potter as sole beneficiary of all my titles, properties, possessions and other belongings upon my death. Failing this I name our son; Harry James Potter as my sole beneficiary to all of the above. – James Potter<em>

_I the undersigned, name my husband; James Potter as sole beneficiary of all my titles, properties, possessions and other belongings upon my death. Failing this I name our son; Harry James Potter as my sole beneficiary to all of the above. – Lily Potter_

* * *

><p>Lily's will had an added postscript;<p>

_Should we both be unfortunate enough to leave Harry an orphan, we would request that he be left in the care of either or both of his god-parents; Sirius Black or Alice Longbottom. Should both be incapacitated in some way, as a last resort, we would suggest our son be left in the care of my sister and brother-in-law in the hope that they would care for Harry as they would Dudley. – LP_

* * *

><p>A small tear came to Harry's eye. A tear followed by a small twinge of anger. Anger towards the Dursleys for proving his mother wrong, anger towards his mother for even suggesting the Dursleys, anger towards Dumbledore in keeping this secret from him…<p>

"You alright?" Anthea said quietly in an attempt to break the silence that had enveloped the room.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "Yeah, just trying to comprehend why I was sent to the Dursleys when my Mum called it 'a last resort'."

"Maybe they didn't know, after all the will has been sealed for so long." Anthea suggested.

"Perhaps, but I someone had told me. But there isn't any point in dwelling on the road not taken."

"Shall we look at the rest of it then? Or do you want to just glance at the top sheets?"

"Can we have a look at the details of the main properties, because I don't even know where they are, let alone what they are, but I know they exist. Then I want to go down to the family vault, and then we can go and meet Sirius and Madam Bones."

"I'm at your disposal." Anthea smiled at him before passing over the property folder.

As Harry read on down the list, he became more and more astounded. As well as Potter Manor in the West of England with thousands of acres of surrounding land, there was a summer home in the Lake District, apartments in New York (overlooking Central Park) and Paris (in the Seventh Arrondissement with views of the Seine), and a house in Kensington. Various properties in Diagon Alley belonged to the Potters and were under long term leases, including, Harry noted: _The Daily Prophet_ offices. Yet most exciting of all, in Harry's opinion was thirty square miles of land in Jamaica with five miles of beaches.

Harry whistled through his teeth and passed the folder back to Anthea.

"What am I supposed to do with all that?" he asked in bewilderment, "I've never had my own house before, let alone six around the world."

"And that is why Pronick left me at your disposal," smiled Anthea.

"You knew?"

"Not until five minutes ago, forgive me Harry but I wanted to see your reaction."

Harry gave her a half-hearted glare before chuckling quietly and then laughing heartily. Anthea just smiled and shook her head. Harry gave her another funny look.

"What?" he asked.

"I've never seen a human go from a glare to laughing like its Christmas so quickly. I've seen goblins do it but never a human."

"Well, after the day I've had…I'm now faced with the fact that I never have to return to the Dursleys again!"

"And that's good, right?" asked Anthea, although she'd got to know Harry better over the past few days, she'd never inquired about his home life.

"To think they were boasting of their holiday in Ibiza at Easter when I returned to Privet Drive last month. I now have island I can access whenever I want." Harry chuckled again, "imagine the look on their faces if they ever found out."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, you could probably buy up most of Privet Drive without even denting the vault in your name which is according to this document her, only a trust vault. But it's a trust vault to the value of about two hundred and fifty thousand galleons. The pound is currently eight to the galleon so you have two million sitting there before we even delve into the family vault." Anthea paused, "you my friend are a very rich man."

"How much is in the family vault?" Harry asked.

"And that is the million-dollar question," Anthea quipped, "but in this case it has a multimillion dollar answer." She passed him a sheet of parchment.

Harry's eyes fell on a single figure. "Fifty three million seven hundred and sixty eight thousand two hundred and seventy seven galleons, four sickles and fifteen knuts," Harry whispered in disbelief. He looked at Anthea who was beaming.

"That was in 1981. If it makes you feel any better you now have the largest personal fortune of any living Gringotts account holder, become one of the wealthiest individuals in the Wizarding World and in Muggle terms; you've made it onto the Sunday Times Rich list."

"Is there anything else I can add to this new found wealth?"

"You own shares in various companies both magical and muggle. It's very unusual that a magical family has such large investments in the muggle world but they seem to be paying quite well."

"Anybody I'd know?"

"There is a twenty percent stake in the _Prophet _and small shares in Flourish and Blotts, Honeydukes and a few apothecaries."

"The _Daily Prophet_? The same newspaper that has been printing garbage about me since the middle of last year?"

"The very same."

"Could I do something about it?"

"You could-"

"Good I want to-" Anthea held up her hand to stop him.

"I suggest you wait before doing so, so we can use it to our maximum advantage, who know, with the right story we could topple the government." Anthea suggested. "Besides, I doubt the Ministry knows that you have a controlling interest in the newspaper they are using to broadcast their propaganda."

"True, you know this could be rather fun. Think about it; if I control the media, I control the message, I control the news so I control knowledge."

"And that is more powerful than every galleon in existence at this moment."

"So I should keep it for a rainy day?"

"We'll make a goblin out of you yet Harry," Anthea chuckled before looking at her wristwatch. "We'll have to go down to the vault now if we want to make it to lunch on time."

"Yeah…" Harry said quietly.

"Are you OK Harry?"

"I just don't want this to change who I am, I don't want people to start to only see my money and not see me the person."

"You know that you don't have to tell anyone what you have." Anthea suggested.

"But then what use is it?"

"At the end of the day; money, fame, fortune – it's all as superficial as the clothes on your back. What matters is your heart. Don't forget that. Don't let the money change you."

Harry smiled weakly at her. "Let's go see what's in that vault," he said, "the excitement is killing me!" he smiled.

* * *

><p>The trip to the Potter Vault took several minutes. Copperbolt accompanied Anthea and Harry down to some of the deepest vaults in Gringotts' stewardship. This was the furthest Harry had ever been in the tunnels below the magical bank. Towards the end of their journey they took a hairpin bend at speed and were faced with a cascading wall of water.<p>

"Hold on tight!" exclaimed Anthea.

The Gringotts cart didn't slow down and they shot through the water like a torpedo. Water filled Harry's eyes and mouth until the cart zoomed out through the other side with a pounding headache.

"The Thief's Downfall!" Anthea spluttered. "It washes away all magical enchantment, all magical concealment. We'll dry off when we get there…Harry are you alright?"

"Headache!" Harry shouted. "It feels like my head has just burst like a balloon. The sensation is now wearing off."

"That shouldn't happen." Anthea raised an eyebrow, thinking. "If you don't mind, I'll get one of the healers to take a look at you before we go."

"Sure."

The cart began to slow down.

"Nearly there!" called Copperbolt.

The cart slowed to a stop in a large cavern with a pool of water at its centre. Stalactites and stalagmites were dotted about and Harry could hear the dripping of droplets of water. Copperbolt led them by the light of his lantern to a large dark oaken door whilst Harry and Anthea dried themselves with their wands. There was no keyhole. The only thing that adorned the door was a brass plaque engraved; 'Potter'.

"Copperbolt if you could do the honours?" asked Anthea.

"It would be my pleasure," replied the goblin with a toothy grin. "Let's see what is in the vault…" Copperbolt placed his palm onto in the centre of the door. It opened with a hiss, green smoke billowed out from the doorway. As the smoke cleared, Harry was faced with a spectacle as Copperbolt set about lighting the torches on the wall.

The vault was huge; as large as the Gringotts trading floor. Harry could see piles of gold, silver and bronze, mounds of emeralds, rubies, sapphires and diamonds and stacks of books and scrolls. His mouth dropped open for about the hundredth time that day.

"Well, shall we explore?" Harry said after several moments of trying to take it all in.

"Go ahead, it's all yours after all. You can remove what you like Mr Potter," said Copperbolt.

Harry wandered over to a large trunk. It was unlocked and so Harry opened it. He was faced by a pile of what looked like grey cloth.

"Acromantula silk," Copperbolt commented dryly, "very rare, highly desirable and consequentially very valuable."

"Is there a list of contents for this place? You could spend a week in here and still not see everything," a bewildered Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not. If I may suggest it sir, why not let the bank audit the contents of this vault? For a fee, we could have a list for you by the end of next week." Copperbolt suggested.

"How much?" asked Harry.

"I would have to make enquiries with my superiors but it will be an inconsequential amount and we will of course conduct ourselves with utmost discretion," said Copperbolt.

"I'll talk to Anthea." Harry said before moving to another trunk. This one was full of various potions ingredients.

Anthea on the other hand had found a cabinet. Inside two dozen pieces of fine jewellery sat resplendent, their velvet lined cases open. The quality was at its finest – diamonds sparkled, silver shone and gold glowed. She called Harry over.

"Wow!" he whispered before opening the cabinet doors to examine the brooches and necklaces inside. A piece that had caught Harry's eye was an ornate brooch in the form of a snitch. A single large yellow diamond formed the walnut sized ball whilst the wings were crafted from silver with tiny diamonds embedded upon the metal. The object glittered in the torch light.

When Harry opened one of the drawers in the cabinet he came across an ornate ebony and ivory wizards chess set. Harry set it up on top a nearby chest of drawers. It looked magnificent. The chess pieces were grumbling after being rudely awakened after several decades asleep. Harry thought it was a shame that it was stuck here gathering dust when it could be used and admired. Harry looked around and found an empty wooden box he could store the chess set in before summoning a large wicker basket he spied lying in a corner. 'While I'm here, I might as well get something for my friends.' He thought to himself before shutting the cabinet and moving to the nearest bookshelf to find something to satisfy Hermione.

Harry found several editions of _A History of Magic, Hogwarts; A History _and _Nature's Nobility; A Wizarding Genealogy_ along with other obscurer titles such as _Broompedia, A History of Magical Art, Notable Squibs _and _If You Should Happen Across a Hinkypunk and Other Tales_ which appeared to be a collection of magical fairy tales. There were a few titles in what Harry recognised as French and a small number had runic titles. Harry gathered a few volumes and placed them in the basket, feeling sure that his bibliophilic friend would find something useful. Yet he also decided to collect some of the books on defence and the dark arts for his own use. 'Any new information is good information' he surmised.

"Mr Potter!" Copperbolt called, beckoning him over. "I think you'll need this," he said, gesturing to a leather bound volume on a brass lectern. The binding looked old and embossed in gold on the front was the name 'Potter'. "If I am not mistaken, that is your family's grimoire. It is probably only accessible by you and would contain details of family spells, rituals and the information about the family properties; all of which are either unplottable or under the fidelius charm."

"It might be an idea to take that with me too."

"Keep it secret, keep it safe. I would advise that you leave it at Potter Manor when you go back to school."

"That would be best." Harry replied, imagining the damage Malfoy would do if he ever got his hands on such a precious item.

"Is there anything else you would like to take at this time?" asked Copperbolt.

"Uh-"

"Harry, you might want to take a look at this," Anthea called Harry and Copperbolt over to a large trunk. "I think this might be the things from your parents' house in Godric's Hollow."

Harry went to look. Inside the trunks he saw a little jewellery; 'Mum's' he thought, a broomstick; 'Dad's' and some books and various robes. Most moving of all though was a half sized broomstick and a small scarf. 'That must have been mine.' Yet on top of it all was small biscuit tin sized lid. Harry opened it. He found two wands, a silver ring and four gold rings; two with rubies inlaid or mounted upon them.

"An engagement ring, two wedding rings and two house rings." Copperbolt summarised.

"Were they your parents' rings?" asked Anthea, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"They must have been wearing them the night they died." Harry said quietly, before taking the box, and the small broomstick and stowing them in his wicker basket. He walked out of the vault, trying to keep his composure. Copperbolt was about to follow him but Anthea stopped him with a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Let him be, this would be too much for anyone."

"Shall we? It's time to depart." Copperbolt gestured towards the door.

* * *

><p>Outside the vault, Harry sat down at the edge of the cavern pool and listened to the drip dripping of the water from the rocky ceiling. He sat deep in thought. Copperbolt was the one to bring him back to reality.<p>

"Mr Potter, are you alright?"

"Yes…it's just I've never had anything that belonged to my mother…as you can see…well…" he trailed off.

"Well if I could give you a bit of advice Mr Potter…?" Harry nodded at the goblin to continue. "A life isn't best represented by objects, it isn't represented by silver or gold – as ironic as that is, coming from a goblin such as myself. A life is best represented by the actions of a person. Don't forget that there are many worlds out there for you to explore – in London alone there are three! But if you want to live your life properly, do what you alone want to do, don't listen to Dumbledore, don't listen to the Ministry, don't even listen to the Goblin Nation – as treasonous as that sounds. Choose your own path, and then you will be great. Don't mull on the past when you have your whole life to live." Copperbolt stood in silence for a moment. "Anthea and I will be waiting for you," he said before returning to the cart.

After several minutes of silence, Harry followed him.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, but we're going through that waterfall once again!" Copperbolt shouted as the cart began to climb through the maze of tunnels under London's only magical bank.<p>

"Thanks for the warning!" Anthea replied. Harry was still deep in thought.

He only noticed their passing through the waterfall when the torrent of water hit him in the face. As he was spluttering he felt another sharp pain in his scar as a sticky black substance seemed to leach from it, covering his shirt. Somebody was screaming in the distance, or so he thought, maybe it was just his imagination.

"I guess lunch will be delayed," he called quietly, as his vision blurred he slumped in his seat unconscious.

* * *

><p>Harry thought he saw something golden flashing in front of his face and reached out to grab it. It was then that the image of Albus Dumbledore, his half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his nose, came into focus. To Harry, the image looked crisp, too crisp so he checked whether he was wearing his glasses. He wasn't. It was then that Dumbledore spoke.<p>

"Good morning Harry," he said, his face serene, eyes twinkling.

"Morning? It was getting close to lunch time when I-," Harry paused, sitting up as he did so, "Where am I?"

"You've been out for three days, as to your location you are at Headquarters, welcome to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. This is Sirius' home in London and Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix."

"So this is where you wanted me to taken two weeks ago."

"Yes, we didn't expect you to evade us."

"It seems you got what you wanted." Harry swung his legs over to edge of the bed before looking for his clothes. He spied his trunk in the corner, on top of which sat the wicker basket full of items from the Potter vault. "Now I'm sorry to be an ungrateful guest but I'm afraid I must be going."

"Why, where would you go? Sirius had Tom bring your things here. Besides, your friends are already here, I'm sure you wouldn't deny them the opportunity to speak to you?"

"Deny them the opportunity to speak to me? They haven't really been in touch with me since the end of term. I had a brief note from Hermione saying that she wouldn't be able to write. I don't know where they've been, what they've been doing, where Voldemort is, what Voldemort has been doing…I've had to rely on the _Prophet_ for news and we both know that is just a Ministry propaganda machine."

"Harry, I believe I should apologise. I merely told them not to put anything about the actions of members of the Order in their letters. Not cut you off entirely."

"I guess Hermione took her instructions too literally. I have had nothing from either of them, not even a birthday card."

"I'm sorry."

"Well I have people to see and places to be professor."

"At least wait here for a few hours."

"I'm sorry, but I've had enough of waiting. Until whatever just happened I was for once doing something for myself. What did happen to me by the way?"

"The goblin's wouldn't tell Sirius when they placed you in his care."

"Well I was going to see them anyway, we have unfinished business. Now if you excuse me professor, I have to dress." Dumbledore didn't take being dismissed by the young wizard very easily.

"Harry, I must insist-"

"Professor, I have the right to privacy, I'd like to dress."

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed before leaving the room.

* * *

><p>Once Dumbledore left, Harry found his wand and his glasses, putting on the latter, only for him to find that his vision had blurred. 'Odd', he thought, before removing his glasses and putting them in his pocket. He then summoned a set of clothes from his trunk before putting them on. He looked at his face in the mirror, he noticed that his scar had become considerably fainter whilst his brilliant green eyes were only made more obvious through the lack of glasses. All in all, although he wouldn't say it, Harry thought he cut quite a dashing figure. Whilst shrinking his trunk and bewitching it to become feather light, he took a last look around the room. From the wicker basket he took the chess set and some of the books and placed them on the bed before scrawling a short note to his 'friends':<p>

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_I'm sorry to be so abrupt but I have a lot to do this holiday and so I am afraid I won't be around, but while I'm away, I've left you both something. The chess set is for you Ron and the books for Hermione. It's a shame I don't have that much time but I'm sure you'll both understand. Have a good rest of the summer and I'll see you on the train on the first of September._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

Harry put the note along with his gifts on the centre of the bedspread before picking up the wicker basket and leaving the room without a second glance.

* * *

><p>On the landing, Harry seemed to get his bearings, leaning over the bannister, he saw that he was two floors from the top and three flights of stairs from the main entrance hallway. If there was one place that could describe what Harry saw, it would be; 'gloomy'. The house looked like it belonged to a family of dark wizards and had been abandoned years ago. As Harry descended, he looked through the doorways of some of the rooms of the landing. Here he say layers of dust, inches think, cobwebs dangling from the ceiling and the quiet murmuring of people in paintings. Harry was about to descend the final flight of stairs when he heard a girl's voice call out to him.<p>

"Harry!" she called. Harry turned only for his face to be engulfed in a cloud of bushy hair as Hermione squeezed him tightly. "Oh, Harry! We were so worried, first you escaped from the Order then Dumbledore said you were cleared at your hearing then Sirius brought you here unconscious a few days ago…" Harry held up a hand to stop Hermione's torrent of a speech. "Well how are you feeling?"

"I'm off out actually. I've got things to do and jobs left unfinished after I was so rudely interrupted by whatever caused me to black out under Gringotts." Harry turned his back on Hermione and started for the stairs.

"Harry, you've only just got here! We've got so much to tell you!"

Harry paused, his foot hovering in midair, before swivelling on his heel back to face her. "So much that you couldn't of perhaps broken it all down and put it in your letters?"

"Dumbledore made us…"

"I know what Dumbledore 'made' you do and then you took it to mean that you couldn't send me a single thing. Not even a birthday card."

"Harry, I'm sorry, I really am…"

"Hermione, if I was in your situation, do you think I would cut you off completely from the world?"

"No but-"

"I've been alone for most of the summer, no news from anybody until two dementors decide to turn up in the middle of Surrey and then just happen to come across me and Dudley. Then all hell breaks loose and the Order come to take me to 'Headquarters' which I assume is here." Harry's voice was beginning to rise.

"Do you know what, I've had enough. I've had enough of being seemingly ignored by everyone! You couldn't even write a birthday card Hermione! All I get is a single line telling me that you can't write and then a few lines earlier this week telling me how everyone – most of whom I haven't either met or heard neither hide nor hair from in weeks – is really worried because I've managed to drop off the radar.

"The one time, the one time I decide to do something for me, everyone decides it's not a good thing! Who fought to save the Philosopher's Stone? Who defeated the basilisk? Who managed to defend his godfather from well over a hundred dementors? Who got entered into an adult contest by an escaped Death eater? Who faced dragons, grindylows and maze filled with dark creatures only to find that at the end he had to see one of his friends die and then he had to battle Voldemort?

"You would have thought that everyone would think that I have had could look after myself by now. It's not like I do so most of the time and yet everyone wants to wrap me in cotton wool and pat me on the head at the end of the day saying "Well done!" I'm sorry but I've had enough! Voldemort is back, and cotton wool won't stop him!"

Harry's eyes were blazing. Burning like green lasers into a frightened looking Hermione who had shrank back against the wall in fear.

Hermione took a deep breath, "Harry-", but she was immediately cut off.

"Don't speak Hermione, it will only make the situation more difficult for the both of us. Now, I'm sure you can explain what I've just said to Ron and I'll see you both on the express on September the first." Harry didn't bother to wait for her reply. Hermione didn't try and stop him.

* * *

><p>Harry approached the front door and saw a plethora of locks and deadbolts upon it. "<em>Alohamora<em>" he incanted and too his surprise Harry heard the door unlocking, he pushed it open and walked into the summer sun.

Inside, Hermione found an empty chair and sat down and let her emotions out. She cried for nearly half an hour. What had happened to the Harry Potter she knew?

* * *

><p>Out on the pavement, Harry stuck out his arm, wand in his hand and a purple triple-decker bus popped out of nowhere with a bang. It careered around the greensward at the centre of Grimmauld Place before coming to a halt in front of Harry with a screech of its tires. A wiry young man of about twenty jumped down and announced himself.<p>

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be you conductor this morning!" Stan announced proudly.

"Yes I know who you are…" Harry said impatiently. "How much to get to the Leaky Cauldron?"

Stan dropped his professional manner almost instantly. "Eight sickles but for eleven you get an armchair." Harry took the more comfortable option and paid Stan eleven silver coins. "'ere what 'choo say your name was?"

"I didn't, but we've met before. I'm Harry Potter."

* * *

><p><em>AN: What 'choo think of 'at then? Note to self, refrain from using accents in the author notes…all feedback appreciated. You should know the drill by now…_


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